Awake

As I lay awake listening to the occasional light snore coming from my wife I peered at the clock ticking off the minutes of wee morning hours. It wasn’t the noise keeping me from sleep…but it was…the flow of tiny electrons through the circuits of my brain…it was the mental activity that would not subside. I kept thinking about the words from Sunday morning …the same words we always repeat at each and every Sunday mass. It was the Confiteor: “I confess to almighty God, and to you, my brothers and sisters, that I have sinned thought my own fault, in my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done, and in what I have failed to do…” I couldn’t help but ponder all the “what I have failed to do” moments in my past…all those missed opportunities that I really never considered to be an offense to God.

The beggar on the street…I would roll up my window as I passed in an effort not to be seen. The collection plate at church …I would close my eyes, as it was passed, as if in deep prayer.
Not making the sign of the cross and saying the blessing out loud before public meals.
And the list goes on.

My policy is to never volunteer for anything, never do more than required, but never break the rules. Well, I have got to change my policy, I have to extracate myself from the mushy middle, get out of my lukewarmness, I’ve got to be proactive in this fight, and I have to get out front in this race.

I pray, Dear Lord Jesus, please give me the wisdom to recognize my faults and failings and give me the strength and courage to correct them.

As Amen crosses my lips…I nodded off to sleep.

Minding My Own Business

As I sat in the pew listening to the readings…just minding my own business and feeling quite good about myself…perhaps even a little smug and self-righteous. The priest read the last lines from Matthew’s chapter ten quoting Jesus: “Everyone who acknowledges me before others I will acknowledge before my heavenly Father. But whoever denies me before others, I will deny before my heavenly Father”.

For some reason those words struck me…struck me and stuck in my head like some catchy tune playing over and over. I could not purge the thought from my mind.

I could not help but think of the times that I felt self-conscious about making the sign of the cross in public…when eating out. Oh! Sure! It is no problem in church. I’m the perfect Catholic in church. But to bless myself in public makes me uncomfortable.

Then it hit me…it hit me as if I had heard the cock crow for the third time. My heart wept with a mournful sorrow as I envisioned Peter on that fateful Thursday night.

Well! I’ve got to make some changes uncomfortable or not…I have to acknowledge Jesus. If I don’t…being “ill at ease” in public is going to be the least of my problems.

Thank you, Jesus, for your very poignant words.
Please, Heavenly Father…please Lord God...send the Holy Spirit to give me the courage I need.

Amen.

Final Answer

Who wants to be a millionaire? Who wants to be rich? Who wants to be happy?

Is being rich being happy? Do riches make me happy? Do I want to be happy for all eternity? Do I want to distract myself with the pursuit of riches now… only to find out…I will be eternally unhappy?

It all boils down to choosing the correct answer…choosing…between heaven or hell, between Jesus or No Jesus…and the clock is ticking.

I know there is a hell because I’ve been there. Using the scientific method of trial and error, I have, over the course of many years, tested each and every one of God’s commandments. If I have not broken the commandment…I have, for the most part, bent it to the breaking point. Each and every experiment, each and every incident, each and every testing produced the same results.

The result was the bottomless pit of depression, it was the incessant grinding and gnashing of teeth, and it was the crippling and excruciating pain of guilt…it was…pure hell.

Living without Jesus is by definition…Hell.
Therefore, Hell is not my answer…I am certain of that.

So…..My final answer is…be…be with Jesus. Jesus is my final answer.


Dear Lord Jesus

Forgive me for/ the fallacy I believed
Thank you for/ the grace I received

I ‘m humbled by/ the patience you’ve shown
As I stumbled about/ the great unknown

Forgive me for/ the trials I’ve blown
Please give me strength/ to press on

Thank you Jesus/ for your guiding light
Allow me the courage/ to stay in the fight

No other answers will suffice/ it’s clear nothing else will do
For nothing compares/ to the promise I… have… in… You

Amen

In Nomine Patris

I walked the expanse of the enormous cobblestone courtyard, climbed the seven symbolic steps, passed thru the big bronze door, pushed open the massive wooden entry and stepped in. I stepped into what seemed like a time warp, I had stepped back in time…back to a place of my childhood recollections. I had entered into a pre-Vatican II world, a world of Latin and liturgy complete with gothic architecture, ornate stained glass appointments, immense columns, inlayed polished marble floors and ceilings that rose to the heavens.

Yet, all this paled in comparison to the spectacle of absolute reverence and awesome respect shown by everyone in attendance. I marveled at the sight of the altar-boys, all in lock step, as they processed up the aisle with serious somber looks on their faces. They ushered in the priest with candles and crucifix held high.

In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.(In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit) the memories rushed back…my experience of being pressed into altar-boy service, having to memorize and recite all the prayers in Latin…the meaning of which I had not a clue…and the uncomfortable feeling of being watched by all. Looking back I suspect this is about the time my spiritual train jumped its tracks for I was a rebellious nine year old child.

The unseen cloistered nuns singing from the other side of the partition filled the shrine with the sounds of Adoremus, Sanctus Sanctus Sanctus and Panis Angelicus.

I looked on with astonishment at the sight of everyone dressed in their Sunday best, no T-shirts, no tennis shoes, and no provocative frocks. There was no parade going in and out during mass and no one leaving early or coming in late. There was just raw reverence…from the smallest child to the most elderly person.

Most but not all the women wore mantillas covering their heads, the men wore coats and ties, and there I was with wrinkled jeans and tennis shoes. I felt like the man in the parable of the wedding feast who did not have on the proper garment…fortunately I was not bound hands and feet and thrown out into the darkness with the wailing and gnashing of teeth.

“Confiteor Deo omnipotenti” (I confess to Almighty God), priest and participants alike recited the words. It seemed I was half awake and half asleep…in some sort of half real and half surreal dream-world. I had to clinch my teeth to keep my jaw from quivering, my eyes from watering and I had to force myself to breath due to my muscles constricting the normal lung movements.

“Dominus Vobiscum” (may the lord be with you). We all answered, “Et cum spiritu tuo” (and with your spirit).

The priest with his back to the crowd raised the consecrated host above his head for all to see saying, “Ecce Agnus Dei, ecce qui tollit peccata mundi.” (Behold the Lamb of God; behold him who takes away the sins of the world).

We all filed up to the apron covered communion rail, knelt and received Our Lord and Savior on the tongue. Emotions of being totally unworthy mixed with feelings of being eternally thankful churned within me…like fresh cream…they churned until the cream turned into the butter of grace.

The entire experience is a poignant picture that is burned into the memory of my soul.

Dear Lord Jesus/ I give you thanks
Now that I am/ among your ranks

For putting my train/ upon Thy tracks
For this I know/ to be the facts

And that’s not all/ you’ve done for me
So make me who/ You want me to be

Blessing too many/ to keep the score
But it is your help/ I do implore

Please help me through/ each day and night
Now that I have joined/ your lofty fight

I know this has/ to be Your way
So this is the prayer/ I pray today

Amen

A visit to the Shrine of the Most Holy Sacrament.
The home to EWTN’s Mother Angelica
Hanceville, Alabama
7/7/2009